Is hell empty?
Is 66:18-21; Ps 117:1, 2; Heb 12:5-7, 11-13; Lk 13:22-30
In recent years, it seems that an old topic has resurfaced with renewed vigor on various Catholic social media outlets. It is generally expressed something like: “Should we expect that there are many (or any) people in hell?”
Depending on the theological ilk of the particular poster or responder, you can expect to find expressions of outrage not only from the suggestion that hell is overflowing, but also from the suggestion that it is empty!
Given such debates over damnation, many might be surprised to learn from the Old Testament just how broad God’s invitation was to all peoples of the world, and that they would gladly be welcomed in Jerusalem, his holy mountain. This can be especially striking to those who adhere to the notion that there is a “God of the Old Testament” (who is primarily angry, ruthless and unforgiving) and a “God of the New Testament” (who is kind, loving and merciful) — as if God somehow woke up in the year 1 A.D. and decided that he would change his tune and become kinder and gentler.
Even so, the full impact of the message in today’s first reading is breathtaking, particularly when we consider its historical context — a context that has a powerful relevance still for us today.
The text is taken from the final chapter of the book of the prophet Isaiah. It likely dates from about 500 B.C., after the Israelites returned to their homeland from exile in Babylon. They are focused on rebuilding the temple, which will reconstitute their identity as a people and reground them in the faith of their covenant relationship with God.
Any interaction with foreigners was strictly proscribed (see, e.g., Neh 13:23-27 for a graphic depiction of the outrage caused by Israelites intermarrying with Gentiles), so as not to threaten their unique heritage as the chosen people by commingling with the religions and cultures of the peoples surrounding Judah.
Given this setting, Yahweh’s promise that he will gather “nations of every language” (Is 66:18) to himself in Jerusalem, and will even send out members from those foreign nations to bring in more of their kinsmen, as well as draw in those Jews who are living far outside of Israel in the diaspora (Is 66:19-20), is quite remarkable. It is as if, through the mouth of Isaiah, God is challenging his own people to be as receptive of alien populations as he is himself. Moreover, the power of the invitation to these foreigners lies in the proclamation of God’s glory (Is 66:19); that is, they will be persuaded to come to God once they learn of all that God has done for his people.
This respect for the same God is what will bind the Israelites with the other nations, until eventually “all flesh” (Is 66:23) will worship God. It would be challenging enough for an Israelite to accept this vision of global unity even in good times, but to embrace it within a social climate of heightened uncertainty and vulnerability, such as in the period just after the return from the Babylonian exile, would be extraordinary.
The irony here is that the Israelites who have returned from Babylon and are actually living on God’s holy mountain in Jerusalem do not seem interested in embodying the vision that Isaiah unfolds. If God’s desire is that all the nations of the world should stream to Jerusalem, the reception they would likely receive is hardly a warm welcome! One wonders whether the prophecy of Isaiah was intended primarily for the “nations” or for the Israelites.
We live today in a social environment that is also fraught with uncertainty and anxiety about the future. In such a climate, the temptation can be overwhelming to circle the wagons and seek a kind of national purity, untainted by the presence of outsiders.
But surely God’s desire for them is no different than it was for ancient Israel’s neighbors, both ally and foe: to ultimately seek the goodness of the Lord, which will entail sharing the holy mountain.
Regardless of whose stamp is on our passport, Isaiah’s words either encourage us to make God’s desire our own, or they accuse us if we do not.